STAY
by TangleFox
Summary: When Daryl suggests that they could stay at the funeral home and make some semblance of a life there, Beth has to consider what that will mean. Giving the others up for dead and spending the rest of her life, however short, with Daryl... Will Beth break through his defenses or permanently damage their relationship with a loaded question? *a warning... there may be smut!*
1. Chapter 1

=:: CHAPTER ONE ::=

"NO!"

Her father's eyes were as calm and wise as ever when they met hers for the last time across the prison yard. Her senses heightened by the horror, she could see so perfectly those gleaming beads of crimson as they took to the air and caught the afternoon sun. She flung herself against the fence, watching him fall, the Governor standing mercilessly over his kill. Anger and sorrow filled her heart to overflowing and poured into her veins. Without a moment's thought, she pulled the trigger, joining Rick in firing upon their rivals.

Beth awoke with a start. Her heart was racing as she tried to discern her whereabouts in the darkness. For a moment she couldn't remember anything that had happened after the attack on the prison.

"Beth?"

Daryl's voice reached her from across the room and brought her back to the present. The crushing present. Her father was dead, _murdered_, and she and Daryl had been separated from the rest of their makeshift family. For all they knew, Rick, Judith, Tyreese, Maggie… all of them could be dead. Or worse, they could be Walkers. But Beth didn't believe that. She always hoped for the best and she believed they would find the others if they kept searching. They had to. She couldn't lose anyone else. No matter how tough she pretended to be, she had a tender heart and with every loss she felt the weight of survival grow ever burdensome. At what point would living be the worst possible outcome?

But she still had Daryl. Hard and weathered as he appeared on the outside, he was a good man. A great man, even. She had watched his walls come tumbling down when Baby Judith arrived in their lives. When Rick had given over to his despair and abandoned their group to wander the woods and the prison wings trying to make sense of his pain, Beth and Daryl had become something of a mother and father to Baby Judith in their own separate ways. There was so much good in him, and it was beautiful, even if he couldn't acknowledge it himself.

Beth turned her head, her eyes struggling to adjust as they settled on Daryl. He was brooding in a corner, his face barely perceptible in the flickering light of a single candle.  
"You alright?"

Beth propped herself up on her elbows. She couldn't quite meet Daryl's eyes. She wasn't alright, but she had to be. At least as far as the rest of the world was concerned.

"I'm fine."

Daryl studied her for several long moments, moving a piece of jerky round and round his mouth.

She rolled her eyes at him. "What?"

"No you're not. You're not fine. And you ain't s'posed to be. You been thrashin' and whimperin on the floor for the last half hour like a rabbit caught inna snare."

Beth stood with a small "hmmph", her chin raised proudly. She had worked very hard to harden her outer shell to keep the outside from looking in and she hated that her dreams betrayed her when she slept. She had also had a moment of weakness in front of Daryl, crying like a child over a dusty boot on the side of the railroad tracks, but she needed to rein it back in. Her father was dead. Nothing would change that. And maybe he was the lucky one; he didn't have to fight tooth and nail to live in this world anymore.

Beth walked over to the boarded up window to look through the slats. The moon cast a grey glow over the field in front of the funeral home and she watched as a rogue Walker made its way aimlessly through the little graveyard.

"Not often they travel alone, these days…" She thought aloud.

Daryl stood up to join her at the window, his crossbow in hand. It was always in hand. Beth had come to see it as less of a weapon, and more of an extra appendage.

Having spotted the Walker, he grunted in agreement. "Yeah, I reckon they don't. Likely a small herd of em' is wanderin' the tree line not far behind. We'll take care of it in the morning. Have to keep this place Walker free if we expect to stay."

_Stay._

Beth searched Daryl's face as he looked out into the night. Could they really stay here? Build some semblance of a life? But what about Maggie, and Judith, shouldn't they keep tracking? Beth pushed these thoughts from her mind for the time being. The morning would shine it's light on them again, no doubt.

"It's not the Walker's I'm afraid of anymore…"

Daryl turned and met her eyes. "Whad'ya mean?"

Beth looked down at her hands. "There are good people out there, Daryl. I believe it with all my heart. But I also know there's bad folks. Like the Governor. Maybe they don't mean to be… the world is a hard place now and it almost broke me in the beginning, so I don't blame em'… but the bad people are the ones that scare me. They're the real monsters. The Walkers, they just run mindless till they cain't run anymore."

She looked up again at Daryl who continued to gaze out into the night, contemplating. He seemed lost in thought, so she braved to consider him longer. He wasn't one for being looked at, and she had never looked to him as more than friend or even family, but now that it was just the two of them, possibly till the end, she had to regard him from that perspective. She found her thoughts drifting into unknown territory. He wasn't exactly handsome in the traditional sense and he smelled like an animal, they both did, but there was something there. He was primal and strong, and this made her anxious in ways she hadn't felt before. But he was tender, too. Like the way he took to Judith and always looked out for her, and this stirred her romantic nature. All of these things were making her want to be closer to Daryl. He kept himself so closed emotionally, but since they had been stranded together she had been able to create a crack in that hard shell of his. Something about him was drawing her in and she couldn't claim to be putting up much resistance.

_It's DARYL…._

Maybe it had always been there though, lying dormant. Lord knew they had never had much time one on one back at the prison. Everyone had their jobs, making runs, caring for Judith, thinning the Walkers, tending the garden… she had to admit that she had never even had the chance to consider Daryl as anything _more_. By her guess, Daryl had about 20 years on her, so there had been little reason to. Besides, she had had more appropriate outlets for those kinds of feelings with Zach who had been closer to her in age.

_Poor Zach._

But times where different now; you woke up each morning wondering if you would live to see the next one. There were so many things she had wanted to do with her life, so many things that were now lost to her. She didn't mean to dwell on those dreams, though. The important things, the ones that really mattered, she could still have. And she didn't want to wait any longer.

"Daryl?"

Daryl's eyes continued to follow the listless Walker outside, but he acknowledged her with his usual grunt.

"Daryl, you know how I didn't want to die without ever having a drink?"

He threw her a sideways glance. "Yeah…"

"Well, you made sure it was a proper drink and you made it… nice. I really appreciated you doin' that for me."

Daryl shifted his weight away from her. She could tell that the sentiment was making him uncomfortable. But that was Daryl. She wasn't offended, nor was she going to let it become a wrench in her train of thought. She plowed forward.

"Well, there's something else. Something else I'd like to do. You know… before I die."

He looked at her now, eyes narrowed slightly. "Well, go on, girl. Spit it out."

Beth's gaze fell to the floor and she began fumbling with her hands. Even in the dim candlelight he could see her cheeks flushing brightly.

"Must be some request if it's got you too 'shamed to talk." He said with a half smile. "You need me to run half way cross the state for this one or somethin'?"

Beth just shook her head. She didn't know how to say it.

"This ain't the Make A Wish Foundation, Beth. We're all on our deathbeds these days. We can't go runnin' around fulfilling all your little girl dreams."

Daryl's insult snapped her out of silence. He could see that he had riled her up proper and there was a fire in her eyes as she stepped toward him.

"It ain't like that, DARYL!" she said defensively.

"Then, what's it like, Beth? Out with it for cryin' out loud." Not one to back down, he stepped forward to meet her, fire and all. He gave her a hard look, and she accepted the challenge.

"I want to know what it feels like, Daryl."

She kept saying his name as if trying it out on a more intimate level.

"Know what what feels like, _Beth_?" Blondie wasn't making any sense.

They glared into each other's eyes for some time, hardly an inch apart. Daryl could see it, the question bubbling up inside of her, about to burst.

"I want to know what a_ man_ feels like, DARYL."

His hard expression fell immediately and he took a stumbled step back.

"A man… Beth- WHAT?"

She was all ablaze now, cheeks crimson with passion and a touch of shame as she threw her hands up, eyes looking anywhere but back at him now that it had been said.

"I've never made love, Daryl." It was harder to admit than she had thought it would be and she could feel tears welling in her eyes.

Daryl threw himself away from her, a look of disgust flooding his face .

"JESUS, BETH!"

What the hell was she thinking? Daryl immediately put as much distance between Beth and himself as he could manage and began pacing the far wall of the living room like an agitated animal, throwing her incredulous looks when he could bear to meet her eye. How could she ever think that that was an appropriate thing to say to him? To ask of him? Why would she even think that he might consider her in that way?

On the other side of the room, Beth's lip trembled as she tried to contain the hurt of such immediate rejection. She had made herself so vulnerable and he had looked so disgusted. He might as well have slapped her in the face.

"Well say something, Daryl!" Her voice cracked with the question, revealing the wound, the embarrassment.

Daryl stopped a moment and closed his eyes, trying to control his voice. "Beth, we're not talkin' bout this. We can't-" He began pacing again, his voice rising. For once his crossbow lay forgotten on the floor.

"Jesus, Beth- What the hell would your father think?"

With this question he had re-lit the fire in her. All shame vanished.

"_My father_, Daryl, would be glad that his daughter was keepin' with someone like you. Someone good, who he trusted completely before he _died_. He would want me to live. And that's a part of livin'. I'm not gonna find no one else."

Daryl huffed at her, eyes harder than ever. "There's no way of knowin' that. And what about Zach? Jimmy? Surely you… ya know…" he shrugged.

"Nope, never. Wanted to; and came close a couple times, but Daddy had his rules and I was never one to stray too far from them. I'm not a child anymore, Daryl. I'm eighteen."

Daryl was in the corner now, a hand on the wall to support his weight. His head hung down, eyes on the floor and his reply was soft but firm.

"No."

"Daryl, I-"

"No, Beth. This conversation's done."

He couldn't even look at her, so he didn't see the tears that leaked onto Beth's cheeks now, and she didn't let them spill into her voice.

"Fine. Just- fine!"

She had no more to say. Gathering her wounded pride, Beth spun on her heel and made for the Chapel. Daryl could turn her down two hundred ways, but he sure as hell wouldn't be claiming any coffin comforts tonight. That pleasure would hers. If she could sleep at all. Passing through the doors, she slammed them behind her.

Daryl, his mind hurling through a sea of thoughts and confusion settled back into his corner after some time, staring hard at the Chapel doors.

After a while, muffled through the walls, a slow and sorrowful melody began playing on the piano; and Beth's voice, soft and sweet, accompanied.

_I've heard there was a secret chord, that David played, and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?_

Daryl leaned his head back and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long night.

***SONG LYRICS ARE FROM "HALLELUJAH" BY LEONARD COHEN, I DID NOT WRITE THEM!***


	2. Chapter 2

**=:: CHAPTER TWO ::=  
**

****Just a Note: some details may be changed from the show to make my story work. Also, fun fact: I actually live in Georgia where TWD takes place. It's fun writing a fic that is set in the surroundings I know so well! :-)**

Daryl kept watch all night. He didn't want to wake Beth, didn't want the confrontation. The sun had risen and he could hear her moving around in the chapel. Leaning against the wall, he peered through the slats of the living room window wondering what he should say to her. He had pondered on this all night, among other things, but had drawn a blank. Beth had put him in a bad spot and he didn't care for it at all. He had hurt her feelings, he knew that, but her request still made his stomach turn. He had tried to entertain the thought of Beth as more than… well- _Beth, _but it hadn't worked.

_Because it ain't supposed to. _Daryl reminded himself.

It had been a long time since he had been with a woman and in all honesty, when the world had gone to shit, it had all but eliminated any such desires. Survival had stayed at the forefront of his mind all this time and that is why he was still alive. But now it was just him and Beth. And Beth had far too many other concerns tumbling around in her young head.

The chapel doors parted suddenly, drawing him unwillingly into that dreaded moment. He shifted awkwardly, and opened his mouth to speak, forcing himself to look at her. But Beth didn't seem interested. She didn't even afford him a single glance as she hurried past with long, limping strides through the living room and into the kitchen, her unkempt ponytail swinging out of sight.

Daryl stood, still and uncertain. Should he join her or leave her be? She didn't even say good morning, so he was pretty sure she didn't want his company.

_Fuck that._

Beth wasn't going to keep him corralled in here because she was sore with him. Her going into the kitchen had made him realize just how hungry he was, and he meant to get himself a bite to eat, too. He had done his watch and hers, so if she didn't want him around she would just have to take her breakfast elsewhere. The kitchen door smacked against the wall as Daryl burst in.

"Mornin." He said, glaring down at Beth who was now seated at the kitchen table.

His sudden entrance had obviously startled her. She stared back at him for a moment, wide eyed, before returning to the soup she was eating directly from a can. She did not return the greeting but she did mumble,  
"Thanks for keeping watch last night. You shouldn'tve done that."

Daryl fell heavily into the chair across from her, his own breakfast in hand. He took a large spoonful of peanut butter into his mouth and rolled it around several times before responding.

"Don't worry bout' it."

He was staring her down hard. He wasn't one for women's games, and he wasn't even about to let her start one.

Beth hadn't slept much last night, but she had made up her mind that she was going to give Daryl the proper silent treatment of a scorned woman. He deserved that much. But now she felt herself shrinking before him, even when she looked back down at her food, she could feel his eyes following her every movement. The shame of their confrontation welled up inside her again and her cheeks flooded with heat. She felt like a deer in the headlights, desperate to flee from that point of stark visibility.

She stood up and put her soup can and spoon in the sink. Her foot was still a bit stiff and sore, but luckily her boot had taken most of the damage from the trap. A walk would probably do her some good. Stepping around the counter Beth reached for the doorknob that would set her free from Daryl's penetrating eyes. But she only got halfway outside before he called,

"Where you think your goin'?"

Beth paused for a moment, and started to answer him, but thought better of it. She didn't have to answer to Daryl or his confrontational attitude. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or their conversation the night before. Maybe it was both. Either way, she didn't like how he was behaving. Every movement, every look and every word seemed like a challenge, a jab; and she didn't like being poked at. She wished now that she had just kept her mouth shut. She would rather have died as innocent as she was born than to do this dance with Daryl.

Ignoring him, Beth stepped outside, the screen door banging loudly against it's frame behind her. The Walker from last night was nowhere to be seen, so Beth picked her way carefully through the graveyard towards the woods. One hand rested lightly on the handle of her knife at all times, just in case. As she passed by, Beth saw that some of the headstones were so old that the names and dates were no longer legible. There were two tiny graves side by side and these bothered her most of all. She thought of Baby Judith, praying that she had made it out of the prison alive and well. Her heart would break if she ever found out otherwise.

She had just made it to the tree line when Daryl swept in front of her, blocking her path. Beth couldn't suppress a small cry of surprise, and Daryl caught her wrist tightly in his hand before she could pull her knife on him.

Beth snatched her wrist from his grip, and stepped away from him.

"Christ Daryl! Why'd you have to sneak up on me like that?"

He pursued her.

"I was talkin' to you back there at the house, girl. You can't just go wanderin' off out here."

Beth moved away from him till her back ran up against a tree. His face was in hers now, waiting for her to respond.

"I can take care of myself, Daryl." She shot back, stubbornly. "I don't need a babysitter."

"We're all each other's got now, Beth. We've got to stick together. Anything could happen out here."

Beth rolled her eyes, looking off into the woods, but after several moments, her temper subsided. He was just looking out for her.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

Daryl grunted and backed off some, appreciating the acknowledgement. Readjusting his crossbow across his back he muttered, "S'alright."

Beth looked him in the eye now. "I really can take care of myself, y'know?"

Daryl regarded her carefully before agreeing. "I know. But I ain't got nothin' better to do and two's better than one out here, I reckon."

She afforded him a small smile. "I'll look out for you."

Daryl didn't look amused.

"Figured I ought to find that Walker and put it down." She said, changing the subject and looking around.

"And his friends, if he's got any." Daryl reminded her.

He looked carefully at the ground and easily picked out the path made by the uneven, dragging steps of a Walker.

"This way." He beckoned, taking his crossbow over his head and into his hands.

Beth followed him for some time. He had taught her well, and she eventually took the lead as the trail grew fresher.

"Daryl?"

_Oh lord. _He knew her tones too well and hoped that she wasn't about to bring the discomfort of last night back to the surface. He had dared to think that they were going to move on with their lives as if it hadn't happened at all. Well, at least as best they could. He knew it would never really leave the back of his mind now that it was said.

He didn't encourage her with a response, but she continued anyway.

"Don't you think we should keep trackin' the others? I mean, we know that somebody got somewhere… we tracked em' for a while before I stepped in that trap."

She kept walking, following the disturbed ground and Daryl followed silently behind her, relieved.

"They're strong, Daryl. Every one of em'. We all made it_ so_ far together. It just doesn't seem right to give up now. And Maggie… Daryl, I've got to know. She's my sister."

Daryl considered this. It had been chaos at the prison. When he and Beth had fled, he hadn't been able to see Rick, Maggie, _anybody_ still standing. That didn't mean they were dead, but it certainly didn't mean they were alive, either. And for all he knew, they had been following the tracks of one of the Governor's men this whole time. But he also knew that despite his initial suggestion, that staying at the funeral home was like to drive him just as crazy as it would Beth. That just wasn't life anymore, staying put. Not without their family, anyhow. He wanted to know just as much as she did.

"We'll keep trackin' if we can. Give your foot another day to mend, and then we'll move on. But if we lose the trail, we're comin' back."

Beth stopped in front of him and turned around. "Thank you, Daryl." She said, throwing her arms around his neck.

His crossbow was pressed awkwardly between them, but to his relief, she released him quickly.

"No problem." He managed.

"You're an angel, you know that? Those wings on your vest, they have a real meaning, Daryl. You've always looked out for all of us."

Beth was back to her happy, bubbly self, the Beth that brought him hope and kept him fighting. She never stayed down or mad for long, and for that he was thankful.

"Don't know about all that... let's not get sentimental. I want to find em' as much as you."

Beth beamed at him before spinning back around.

"Beth!" He barked suddenly, stopping her in her tracks.

A group of Walkers was ambling out from behind a thicket of trees. The steady hum of excited moaning began to rise, as they spotted their potential meal. Backing away quickly, Daryl and Beth counted nine Walkers total. None of them was the rogue they had watched last night, though. Daryl made a silent note of this. The quickest of the herd, a young man dressed in red plaid and jeans, was catching up to them. He couldn't have been dead long, his eyes were milky, but they hadn't sunken in yet. Daryl could see where he had been bitten, a gaping wound on the side of his neck.

Out of the corner of his eye, Daryl saw a thinning in the trees. He took Beth by the elbow and steered her in front of him, keeping himself between her and the Walkers.

"C'mon, I think there's a clearing through there. They'll be easier to put down."

They picked up the pace as best they could with Beth's foot, Daryl keeping a hand on her arm in case she stumbled. The Walkers were starting to gain on them, but they made it to the tree line before he had to plant his hunting knife between the eyes of the spry one.

This gave them a few moments time; after prying his knife free, Daryl drove Beth further into the clearing. They found themselves in a small field encircled by trees that opened up to a wide lake. There was a fishing dock, too, and a weathered fence, probably an old property marker, that still stood partially erect. It had a rugged country charm and might have been pleasant if not for the herd of flesh eaters that eagerly pursued them.

"Over there!" Daryl directed Beth. She hopped along at a jog as fast as she could and when they reached the wooden fence, he helped her clamber to the other side before vaulting over himself.

The Walkers did exactly as he knew they would. They lumbered up against the fence, biting and clawing at the air, reaching desperately. They pushed against one another fighting to get closer, driven by mindless hunger. The fence was creaking loudly and Daryl knew it wouldn't hold much longer. _Time to take care of business._

Beth took up her own knife to assist him. She still forced herself to look into the eyes, or sometimes, lack thereof, of every Walker she killed. They were people once, just like Daryl and herself, and she had promised that she would never forget it. But it was still easy enough to kill them. She knew that if she died, she wouldn't want that fate. She would want someone to take pity on her an end it.

This is what she thought about as she carefully picked them off, watching for the groping, decayed hands, desperate to draw her in toward gnashing teeth.

It only took a minute before a pile of rotting bodies lay motionless against the fence. Beth collapsed onto the ground. Her hands were now covered in thick brown blood. _Old blood_. This used to make her sick but that was a long time ago. At least it seemed so.

The hot sun beat down on them from above as they caught their breath. It was going to be a scorching Georgia afternoon. Beth looked out over the clearing and smiled.

Daryl, who had been wiping off his hunting knife glanced over.

"Whatcha grinnin' about?"

"I'm going swimmin'."

"Do what, now?"

"The lake, Daryl. I'm going swimmin'!" Her face broke into a huge grin.

It amazed him how quickly she could go from running and fighting for her life in one moment, to enjoying it in full the next. Her mind was a paradox he would never understand.

"You should come too." She said, standing up. "We're both filthier than a coupla pigs."

Daryl looked back down at his knife, now clean.

"S'alright. You go on. Might be a rabbit or two in the clearing we could bring in for supper. I'll stay in sight."

Beth rolled her eyes at him once again. _Typical teenager_.

"Fine, fine. But you can't always be standin' guard and catchin' game, Daryl. What's the point of survivin' if you don't let yourself live sometimes?"

Daryl couldn't come up with an immediate response to this, not that she gave him an opportunity. She was already headed toward the lake, tugging at her hair tie. Daryl watched out of the corner of his eye as her golden hair spilled down her back. As he sheathed his knife and gathered his crossbow, he wondered how someone who had lost so much could still hope for anything in this world.

Daryl moved quietly through the tall grass, looking for any signs of burrowing. He tried to keep his eyes on the ground, but Beth was at the dock now, boots kicked aside and stepping out of her jeans. Her legs were long and strong and his eye was drawn down to the purpling wounds around her ankle left by the game trap. He imagined that it smarted a lot more than she was letting on. She was lucky she had been wearing those boots, otherwise she might be looking at a broken bone, or worse.

Stripped down to her panties, Beth pulled her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, so she quickly folded her arms over her chest in case Daryl was watching. And he was. She could feel his eyes on her. _Good_. But her back was turned to him, so he couldn't see anything worth seeing. At the edge of the dock, Beth took a deep breath.

The cold water closed overhead and shocked her senses. It had been so long since she had felt anything but loss, fear and exhaustion. She let her body sink down until she touched bottom. It wasn't very deep here and after her eyes had adjusted to the grit that she had stirred up, she could see the swirling green of weeds around her quite clearly. It was beautiful. Feeling weightless, she slowly let her body drift, turning to look into the depth of the lake. As she turned, her toe struck against something sending a shock up her leg. Just beside her foot she made out what looked to be a cinderblock, and attached to it was a chain. Her eyes drifted upwards, following the links to their end.

Daryl was crouching to examine what might be a rabbit's burrow when he heard Beth' bloodcurdling scream.

"BETH?!"

He leapt up, crossbow at the ready. He could see Beth's face, barely breaking the surface of the water.

"Beth!" He called again, running towards the dock.

But her cries were cut off abruptly as she disappeared below.

Daryl's heart raced. Surely the girl wasn't fool enough to jump in a lake not knowing how to swim? He reached the dock, falling on his knees and he immediately saw to cause of Beth's distress thrashing just below the surface.

****If you drop a comment, please let me know your thoughts on Daryl. Do you think he would ever convince himself to go for it with Beth, or would that be too far outside the realms of his character? Still not sure, myself, just trying to get in his head and move it naturally along, but I'm interested to read other's opinions.** ** Thanks for reading! 3


	3. Chapter 3

**=:: CHAPTER 3 ::=**

Beth sucked in a mouth full of water as the Walker dragged her back under. She pushed blindly against him, fighting desperately to avoid getting bitten. Her nails sunk into soft flesh, gelatinous from being submersed in the lake. The Walker clutched at her thigh, jerking her closer and she could see the strips of loose skin suspended around his face where the fish had been feasting.

It was too much for her, too horrific. Beth couldn't suppress the scream. It rose silently to the surface in a burst of bubbles and water poured into her lungs. She kicked and fought, barely avoiding the Walker's gaping jaw. Her body, desperate for air forced her to try and breathe in again. Against her will she took in more and more water until her limbs felt like lead. It was impossible to fight anymore and she didn't want to. She just wanted to close her eyes and drift away. It wasn't painful, one might have even called it peaceful. The last thing she saw before everything faded to black was a surge of swirling bubbles as something plunged into the water beside her.

Daryl threw down his crossbow and leapt into the lake. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he grabbed the Walker by its hair, but the scalp had softened to such a degree that it began to slide off the skull.

_Jesus._

The water made him slower, but it had the same effect on the Walker. Placing a hand around the back of it's head, Daryl slowly drew the Walker forward and into his knife. Blackened blood poured out and swirled around them. The Walker twitched once and then grew still. He could see where it had been anchored and dropped into the lake from the dock. _What the fuck?_

He turned around slowly, searching for Beth. He finally spotted her lying motionless at the bottom, her hair swirling around her face. She looked ethereal. She looked _dead_.

Daryl took her up into his arms and drew her swiftly to the surface.

"Beth? BETH!" She did not respond as he dragged her body up onto the banks. He slapped her cheeks and raised an eyelid. Her pupils were dilated and unresponsive. A quick once-over told him she hadn't been bitten. With all the shit that had gone down in the world was he really going to lose her to drowning?

Daryl rocked back on his knees, grabbing a handful of his dripping hair in each hand.

"FUCK!"

His voice rang out loudly in the clearing, frightening a pair of cardinals from their tree. He only knew CPR in theory, and Beth's lips were starting to turn grey. Unsure of how to help her, he drew her into his lap and flipped her onto her stomach.

"Come on, Beth." He pleaded through clenched teeth as he hammered between her shoulder blades with his fist. "Come on, girl. Don't leave me here alone." His voice grew more desperate and he continued pounding on her back for some time.

_Stop, you idiot. She's gone._

After several minutes, Daryl finally let her slide back onto the ground. Her skin was ashen against the deep green and yellows of the grass. He turned his back, unable to look at her any longer. He had failed. The one person he had left from their lives back at the prison and he had let her drown. Not that he ever could have anticipated an anchored Walker at the bottom of the lake, but all the same, he felt personally responsible for Beth's well-being. He was thankful in that moment that Herschel wasn't alive to see her like this.

Daryl felt himself collapsing internally. She was the last person he had in this world, his last companion. And that was more precious than anything. All he could do was brace himself against the ground, digging his fingers into the red clay of the earth. He hung his head, defeated. _You're no fucking good to anybody. It should be you dead on the ground, not that sweet girl. Not Beth. She was too good to die._

Behind him, a rattling, gasping sound arose from Beth. He closed his eyes; _she's turning_. He couldn't do it. He couldn't plant his knife between those beautiful blue eyes. Couldn't look into them and see the blank, mindless gaze of a Walker in place of the warmth and spark that had been Beth.

"GODDAMMIT!"

Daryl tried to steady himself, his head was swimming. Maybe he should just let her turn, let her bite him. He didn't know if he could live with himself anymore. But underneath all the self-loathing and pain, he still felt that most basic of instincts, the drive to survive. His crossbow was on the dock, but he would use his knife. It was more intimate. He would have to look her in the eye, see what he had let her become.

More sputtering and a low moan. Now was the time. He took the handle of his knife in hand and turned around. She was starting to move, her eyes blinking against the sun. Daryl took a handful of her hair in his free hand, pinning her head to the ground and raised his knife. Her eyes darted, back and forth until they settled on him.

"I'm sorry, Beth."

Her eyes widened and a stream of water leaked from the side of her mouth.

"No… Dar-yl…"

It was barely a whisper, like sandpaper drawn against wood, but he heard it.

"Beth?" Daryl dropped his knife immediately. "Holy shit… I thought-"

Beth tried to say something else, but choked on the words. Daryl helped her quickly to her knees and she doubled over, coughing up water. He wrapped an arm around her waist for support and gathered her dripping hair in his other hand until the heaving stopped.

When she could breathe again, Beth collapsed into a sitting position, drawing her knees up slowly to cover her bare breasts. Her whole body was quaking.

"God… it hurts." She managed through chattering teeth.

He started to reach out to her in concern, but hesitated, withdrawing his hand. "What hurts?"

"Drownin'." Beth groaned. "Well… not s'much the drownin', but the _not_ drownin'." Her voice was hoarse and slow.

Daryl looked on silently.

"Breathin' in water doesn't feel like nothin' really" she clarified. "But trying to take in air afterwards..." She looked down at the ground then and he could see tiny beads of water lingering on her lashes. "God, it hurts." She said again. A violent shiver coursed through her.

Daryl looked to the dock. Her shirt and one of her boots were floating near the bank. He must have knocked them off trying to get to her.

"Here" he said, shrugging off his vest. "It won't warm you, but it's somethin' at least."

Beth thanked him and took the worn leather in her hands. Daryl looked away as she slid her arms through and wrapped herself in the vest.

"You alright?" He asked when he had turned back around.

She looked up at him and decided to be honest this time.

"No, I don't think so. That Walker, Daryl… it was horrible. Who would do somethin' like that?"

A sudden jolt shot through her as she recalled the strips of flesh that had wafted like ribbons from it's skull. She could feel it's hands on her thigh, pulling her in for the kill. She squeezed her eyes shut, her features contorted against the horrific images in her head.

"Come 'ere."

Daryl reached out to pull her in. Beth went willingly, curling up against him, her cold cheek smarting against the warmth of his chest. He put one arm tightly around her, resting his chin lightly on top of her head.

"I'm sorry that happened. Whoever done that is a sick fuck."

He began to rub the circulation back into her arms with his free hand.

"We're gonna have to be more careful. Likely whoever put that Walker there is keeping camp round' these parts."

Beth nodded, but said nothing. She tried not to think about all the water she had swallowed. Rotting, Walker polluted water. She closed her eyes and buried her face against Daryl, willing herself not to be sick.

They stayed there, sitting in the grass for a long time. At one point, Daryl saw the flashing white of a bounding buck's tail. Normally he would have pursued the deer eagerly; its meat, if dried properly could feed them for months. But not this time. He stayed right where he was, just grateful to have Beth, grateful that he didn't have to be alone. He clutched her tighter in that clearing than he had ever held anyone in his life. And it wasn't just for him, he knew she needed to be held. She was a sweet, affectionate girl, and what she had just been through would have left him reeling, too. It was a complete curveball. Something no one could have anticipated. If he ever found the asshole who had sunk that Walker, he would mess them up proper.

Beth's body eventually relaxed, and Daryl cleared his throat.

"Reckon we ought to fish your clothes out of the lake and get a move on."

Beth suppressed a groan. Reluctantly she shifted her weight forward and off of Daryl. He stood up and bent to take her elbow. Her legs nearly gave out, as she struggled to stand, but she managed with Daryl's help. The whole ordeal had drained her completely. The thought of walking back almost made her cry, but she didn't let on. She followed slowly after Daryl as he made his way to the bank and collected her shirt and boot, pouring a stream of water from the latter. She felt so weak, as she pulled on her jeans.

Daryl offered her boot to her but she shook her head.

"I'll go barefoot. Nothin's worse than walkin' in wet shoes."

She offered a small smile then, but her heart wasn't really in it. "'cept maybe lake Walkers."

Daryl grunted in response but didn't return the smile. He rarely afforded a real smile, and certainly didn't have time for false ones. He was worried about Beth. Every now and then she would twitch violently, no doubt reliving her moments in the water. She had way too many bad experiences hovering over her pretty little head. He just wondered when and if they were going to break her.

"C'mon girl. Let's get you back to the house."

The sun was starting to set when they finally arrived at the funeral home. Daryl had no idea how the day had gotten away from them so quickly, but he was glad to be back. Maybe they could throw caution to the wind and both get a little sleep tonight. Beth was exhausted and so was he. Besides, they would hear if any Walkers got too close. He eyed the tripwire he had set up as they passed through the front door. Everything seemed to be just as they had left it.

Daryl helped Beth inside, and they both hovered in the hall, Beth looking somewhat sheepish.

"Thanks for saving me out there, Daryl."

"Course."

"I s'pose you'll be wantin' your vest back."

Beth held out her hand for her shirt which was thrown over Daryl's shoulder. He started to give it to her, but it was still damp.

"S'alright. You keep it till your shirt dries."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

Beth put her hands in her back pockets and bit her lip, unsure of what to say next. There was so much she wanted to say, _needed to say_, but she didn't want to mess things up again. How could she express her gratitude without getting too sentimental? He had saved her life today, but after last night, she didn't want to make him uncomfortable, or drive him away. She didn't want to be the helpless damsel in distress that always needed saving.

She saw Daryl's eyes travel suddenly downward, lingering below her throat. The vest had parted slightly when she had put her hands in her pockets and he could see her small, soft breasts beneath. She was still covered in gooseflesh, even after the long walk in the sweltering woods. His attention remained there longer than he meant it to.

"Oh." She breathed, finally realizing why he was staring. She hadn't intended to expose herself. She wasn't used to not having a proper shirt on.

"I'm- I'm sorry." She said, flushed. She quickly took her hands out of her pockets and wrapped the leathers tightly over herself.

"Well I'm, I'm just gonna-" Beth made a fast and awkward gesture back toward the kitchen and started to turn until Daryl took a sudden step toward her.

"Wait."

He had a strange look in his eyes and moved toward her with unknown purpose. Beth's breath stayed. Daryl was standing so close now that she could feel the heat rolling off his body. She couldn't have moved if she wanted to. She looked up at him, eyes wide and wondering. Beth could be very forward, but that didn't mean that Daryl didn't intimidate her. He was older, rough around the edges and a hell of a lot tougher than she was.

His unreadable gaze met hers for a moment before it trailed back down. Slowly pushing aside the vest, he looked at her again. Placing a hand along her ribcage, he gently ran his thumb under and then slowly over her breast. Her nipple perked easily for him and Beth felt as if a bolt of electricity had struck her. She couldn't suppress the small noise that crept up the back of her throat. Daryl studied her reaction to his touch carefully. He didn't know what drove him in that moment. All he knew was that he cared a great deal for Beth and he didn't want to lose her.

Beth didn't dare to breathe or move as his fingers traced her subtle curves. Helpless to the array of feelings that flooded her body and mind, shock slowly turned into a delicious warmth that awakened in her belly and spread into her limbs. She closed her eyes as his hand traveled upward at an agonizing pace, running along her collar bone, encircling her neck and then drawing upward until it came to stop beneath her jaw. He lifted her chin and she opened her eyes. His own gaze was steady, but questioning.

"What's a nice girl like you want with someone like me?" Daryl growled under his breath.

He was testing her, watching her every reaction. Perhaps he thought she was too young to know what she wanted. She had reacted positively to his touch, but now he was trying to intimidate her, trying to see if she really trusted him. Beth took a shuddering breath and swallowed, trying to regain some composure.

"You're a good man, Daryl."

He narrowed his eyes.

"You ARE. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you. A hundred times over."

A look of understanding flashed across Daryl's face. "So you think you owe me somethin'."

Beth placed her hand over his, which still rested alongside her jaw, and looked him dead in the eye.

"No, Daryl. I like you because you're you."

In the next few moments she could see an internal battle raging inside of him, but when she placed a hand lightly against his chest he came undone.

Grabbing a handful of hair at the back of her head, he pulled her in. It was an aggressive, erratic kiss and Beth yielded willingly. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat as he drove her back against the wall and hoisted her up so her eyes were level with his. He studied her then, searching for any sign of uncertainty, but he found none.

They spent the next several minutes in a heated exploration of each other's lips. Daryl hadn't thought about a woman in a "womanly" way for so long that his desire now rose, unchecked within him.

Beth finally had to pull away, gasping. Daryl let her down gently and she collapsed against his him.

"Do you want me, Daryl?" She asked, softly between breaths.

"Yes."

His hands slipped around her waist and to the small of her back. Tucking his fingers into the back of her jeans, he took a step closer until his hips were pressing hers into the wall. She could feel the stiff bulge in his pants and a thrill rose up inside of her along with a sense of panic. She didn't know what to do. From this point, everything was unknown territory for her and for once, in a very long time, she was scared of something other than death and Walkers.

Daryl must have had a good many women in his life, but he would be her first and her whole body trembled with the anticipation of that moment.

The anxiety must have shown on her face, because Daryl eased back and his tone was gentle.

"You sure, Beth?"

She looked up at him and nodded, unable to find her voice. She didn't want to turn back now, but she needed him to lead the way.

He kissed her again, but soft and slow this time. Beth's body ached horribly for him.

"Let's go into the living room, at least."

Beth smiled, a blush creeping into her cheeks. They were still in the main hallway.

"Alright."

A strange voice boomed suddenly from the other end of the hall. "Aww, come on now! Things were just starting to get interestin'!"

Daryl drew his knife in a flash, throwing Beth behind him. A tall, greying figure clad in denim leaned in the living room doorway.

"Hey buck-o, let's not be hiding the goods. I was enjoyin' the view..."

Beth's voice trembled, frightened. "Daryl?"

"Stay behind me, Beth." He commanded.

The intruder leaned back as if to speak to someone in the room behind him.

"CLAIMED!" he called out.


	4. Chapter 4

**=:: CHAPTER FOUR ::=**

**++++ NOTE: Okay, so, I re-read Chapter Four and realized how F'ING SLOPPY I had been with it. It was just… bad. I wrote it way too quickly, didn't perform the careful proofreading I usually do, and threw it up on the site.  
So- I went back and corrected a lot of things and re-wrote a lot of things. Sorry for the mess I posted before. I just wanted to re-post it entirely. **

Behind them, the front door banged open and two more men stepped into the house. Daryl swung around, pushing Beth toward the wall.

"Ya'll stay back!"

He glanced from the front door to the living room, a venomous look flashing across his features. They were trapped in the middle with no way out; not unless he made one. Paying no mind to his warning, the man with the gray feathered hair stepped out of the door frame and three more men poured into the hallway behind him.

Daryl cursed under his breath, there were at least six of them and his crossbow lay useless against the wall, obscured from view by a rotund, swine of a man. Another of the thugs began to creep closer, craning his neck for a better look at Beth.

"Hot damn, boss! Look at that purty young thang!"

"Don't get too excited, Dan, I done claimed her."

"Well, _shit_."

Daryl gripped his hunting knife and used his other arm to hold Beth back against the wall.

"Ain't none of your fuckers layin' one goddamned hand on her."

The seeming "leader" of the group threw his hands up in a defensive gesture.

"Now hold on there, Brother! No need for namecallin'. I'm not the type to yank a fresh young filly out from under another man. But me and the boys, see, we ain't had a piece of pie in a looooong while. 'Specially not one a sweet as what you got."

A murmur of agreement rose up amongst the group. Behind him, Beth clutched tightly to the back of Daryl's jeans.

Joe continued rambling on,"I'm a man who knows how to share, see, and I can appreciate that you got here first. So as long as you can share your toys, same as me, there ain't no need for us to have a problem. I don't see any reason why every one of us men can't leave here happy. Each of us in his proper turn, of course…"

He flashed Daryl a relaxed, convincing smile as if they had been friends for years.

"I done told you, ASSHOLE. None of you is laying one GODDAMNED hand on her."

Daryl shot the gang-leader a deadly look. He could feel the vibrations of Beth's trembling hands creeping up his spine. The reality of what was about to happen was sinking in and she was absolutely certain that she would rather die. There were too many of them and Daryl didn't even have his crossbow. He might kill two, even three, before they put him down, but that wouldn't save Beth.

"Sounds like he don't mean to be reasonable, Joe."

_Joe_. Daryl would remember that name when he castrated the fucker. His thoughts were violent as he scoped each of them out. The fat one, with his piggy eyes fixed on Beth- he would spill that one's innards across the floor like a slaughterhouse hog.

Joe sighed; he was well into the hallway now. The rest of his band started to pull out their guns save for one, who had a crossbow. Daryl's mind raced. If he could just take one of them down and get himself a gun, they might have a chance. The odds still weren't good, but it was something. The only problem was, he couldn't protect Beth if he made a move. Joe or one of his lackeys could easily grab her.

"Come on now, Brother. Surely sharing is better than the alternative?"

"I ain't your brother." Daryl growled.

Joe looked down at his boots and chuckled. "A'ight then. Have it your way."

Joe whipped out his pistol and pointed it at Daryl's head.

"Now you come on out from behind your friend there, sweetheart."

Daryl pressed Beth further into the wall. "Don't listen to him, Beth."

"You can mind him, girl, stay where you are and I'll just shoot'im in the head in the next five seconds, or you can march your sweet little ass on over here and maybe you and I can conduct our business without any bloodshed."

Behind Daryl, Beth's eyes were wide and fearful; a gentle creature surrounded by a pack of predators. She had had her knife in hand, prepared to take her own life if necessary, but Joe had seen through that. He had taken away any choice she might have in the matter by turning his gun on Daryl; and Daryl had saved her so many times; she couldn't just let him die.

Joe began to count. "One…two…three… FOUR…."

"Alright."

Beth wiped away the tears that burned at the corners of her eyes and ducked under Daryl's arm.

"Just don't shoot him, please."

Joe grinned. "Told you she was a sweet one, boys! So polite…"

Daryl lunged forward then, snatching Beth by the arm.

"Don't you fucking dare, Beth. Not for me. I'll die before they lay a hand on you."

Joe rocked back on his heels, bored with the drama.

"Dead or no, Brother, either way, blondie's gettin' fucked."

A blind rage welled up within Daryl then. Before he could act on it, however, two of Joe's men grabbed him from behind, pinning his arms behind his back. He had been too distracted in trying to stop Beth to notice their approach. His knife clattered to the floor leaving him defenseless. Even so, the men were having a visibly difficult time in restraining him. He fought like a wild animal to free his arms and threw his head back, breaking one of the men's nose on impact.

Blood sprayed onto the floor. "JESUS, FUCK!"

The injured thug reeled backwards, grabbing at his face. Daryl had almost broken free from his other captor when he was swept into a suffocating headlock. The hallway, Beth and Joe all began to swim around him.

"Don't hurt him!" Beth pleaded, unable to contain her tears any longer.

"God damn! He's a fighter! You alright Len?" Joe laughed slapping a hand against his thigh.

Len groaned miserably in response.

"You'll be fine." He looked then to the man who was restraining Daryl. "Don't let him pass out now, Harley. I want him to watch his filly take one for their little team."

Harley loosened his arm a bit and Daryl's senses came flooding back.

Joe grabbed at Beth suddenly, forcing her up against himself. A choked sob escaped her and she turned her face away from him, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

"I'll be takin' this for the time being." Joe said, procuring her knife. She hadn't dared use it in fear of what they'd do to Daryl.

"I like 'em young." Joe said then, stroking her face. "Bet she's still nice and tight, huh Brother?" Joe taunted Daryl.

"I'LL KILL EVERY DAMN ONE OF YOU!" Daryl spat, still fighting against Harley.

Joe grabbed Beth's face and forced it toward his.

"How many young bucks'v you had, sweetheart? Not too many, I hope?"

Beth kept her eyes shut tight, weeping silently.

Joe's brow furrowed and he leaned back a bit to study her face.

"Hold on now… don't tell me you're still ripe for the pickin'?"

He looked up at Daryl. "Shit, man! You tellin' me I plucked a fresh cherry right out yer mouth?"

His men laughed.

"Hell, I'd be pissed, too!"

He looked back down at Beth. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't be too hard on you."

Joe turned around, taking Beth with him and shoving her towards the kitchen.

"Bring Loverboy on in here." He called over his shoulder.

Daryl bucked and twisted in Harley's grip. "BETH!"

Harley pushed him, with some difficulty, into the kitchen. Once inside he saw that Joe had Beth backed into the countertop, his gun pressed deeply into the soft skin beneath her jaw.

"YOU KEEP YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER YOU SICK FUCK!" Daryl shouted. Harley's face was glistening with sweat, as he struggled to keep him restrained.

But Joe wasn't paying either of them any mind now; he had his eyes on the prize. Running a hand down her neck, Joe easily pushed the oversized vest from Beth's shoulders. It slipped down to the floor, leaving her naked from the waist up. She quickly wrapped her arms around herself, shielding her breasts from view. There was a tense silence in the room as the rest of the group looked on eagerly.

"Ah-ah, now. Don't be coverin' up the good bits, sweetheart. How bout' you step outta them jeans for me?"

Beth opened her eyes then and looked at Joe. "Please…" she pleaded.

"I'm not a patient man, dear. Cooperate, or your friend here gets a bullet in the head."

Beth looked at Daryl. The expression on his face told the lot of them that Harley had best not falter in his hold for even an instant.

"Don't do it, Beth." He demanded.

But Beth followed Joe's orders. She couldn't watch Daryl die. When she had stepped out of her jeans, Joe spun her around so that she was facing away from him and slammed her face and torso down on top of the kitchen counter. Stars danced in front of her eyes for several seconds and a trickle of blood ran down her forehead. Joe pressed his hips into her buttocks and pinned one of her arms behind her back so she couldn't move. A sharp pain shot up through her shoulder and she cried out.

"That's nothing,' girl." Joe laughed, cruelly. "I don't know if anyone ever told you this, but the first time hurts like hell for the ladies, so you best buck up."

"Beth." Daryl called out to her from across the kitchen. "Beth you look at me."

She turned her head, laying the opposite cheek against the cold counter so she could see Daryl. Her eyes, filled with tears, left him a blur, but she knew he was there.

"You look at me and nothing else, Beth. I'm right here."

Joe began to fiddle with the front of his jeans.

"Daryl." Beth choked. Her eyes pleaded with him, but he could do nothing. He had felt such a violent swell of emotions. Every finger Joe placed on Beth was unbearable. All he could do for her in this moment was to be a source of strength for her to draw from. He looked into her eyes, unwavering and his face read a thousand promises of revenge.

_This can't happen… I can't let them-_

A sudden clattering of aluminum pans shattered the silence. Daryl's mind snapped to attention and Joe and his men whipped their heads around, searching for the source. They had all seen the tripwire on their way in, but had long since forgotten about it. A single moment of confusion was all Daryl needed. Harley's hold had loosened by a fraction, and Daryl slipped straight down and out, swiping his gun along the way.

In an instant, Harley lay dead on the floor with a bullet in his brain. He took down two others before the remaining three could start firing.

Joe released Beth and spun around, aiming his pistol at Daryl. He fired a round but missed when Daryl ducked beneath the dining table. Beth, now free from Joe's vile hands, saw her chance and yanked her knife out of the back of his jeans. Without a moment's hesitation, she plunged the blade deep into his shoulder.

Joe yelled, dropping his gun and clutching at his back.

"You fucking BITCH!" He seethed through clenched teeth.

Beth scrambled to get at Joe's gun, but Daryl was already on him, having taken care of the others.

He ripped the knife mercilessly from Joe's shoulder, resulting in a satisfying howl of pain.

"STOP!" Joe fell to his knees, trying to cover the wound with his hand and holding out his other to ward off Daryl. "Come on, now... she's drawn her blood, just let me walk out of here and y'all never see me again, I promise."

"Oh, no, BROTHER. You ain't going anywhere." Daryl snarled, pacing back and forth in front of Joe, his tongue running over his lips.

With one swift motion, he nailed Joe in the face with the heel of his boot, propelling him onto his back. Blood oozed out of his nose and down the side of his face.

Beth clutched the side of the counter and her voice shook. "Daryl?"

"You stay back, Beth."

Daryl lowered himself down, straddling Joe. For a moment, Joe tried to fight him off, but Daryl took the hand that was grasping for his throat and drove Beth's knife straight through, nailing it to the floor.

Joe screamed.

"Shut your fucking mouth." Daryl spat, punching Joe square in the jaw and knocking his head back against the linoleum.

Once he started he couldn't stop. The skin on Daryl's knuckles split open and a searing pain shot up his arm, but he didn't pay it any mind. All he wanted was to make Joe pay. Pay for intruding on them, pay for being a vile fuck, pay for putting his hands on Beth.

Daryl hit him again and again and again .

Beth stood to the side shaking. "Daryl, please…"

But he didn't hear her. Joe wasn't making any noise anymore, and his body twitched horribly beneath Daryl. He must have hit him fifty times, and Beth could see where Joe's forehead had begun to cave in near the temple.

"Jesus, Daryl, stop!" Beth sobbed, coming up behind him and pulling him upwards. Daryl fell back against her for a moment before lunging forward again. This time he started stomping at Joe's face with his boot until only clumps of bloody tissue remained where Joe's head had been.

Beth threw herself at him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him back.

"He's dead, Daryl!"

Daryl's breath came in ragged gasps as he stumbled backwards. He collapsed onto the floor falling against the lower cupboards, taking Beth with him. She kept her arms wrapped tightly around him so he wouldn't go back to wailing on Joe's corpse.

They both leaned heavily against the wooden doors, trying to catch their breath. Daryl's eyes, still dangerous, flicked to Beth's suddenly.

"Did he hurt you?"

Beth shook her head then, unable to speak for fear of losing it. Daryl took her face in his hands, smearing Joe's blood across her cheek and made her look him straight in the eye.

"You tell it to me straight. Did he _hurt_ you?"

Beth took a deep breath before answering him with forced calm, "He didn't do anything to me. You stopped him before he could."

"The hell he didn't." Daryl countered, still furious. "He put his filthy hands on you."

Caving in Joe's face hadn't been enough to release the unbridled rage that had built up inside him.

Beth turned her face into Daryl's shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to let go; to break down and give in to the swirling, suffocating emotions that filled her heart and soul. It was so tempting; she was hanging by the very last thread on the very end of her rope, but she clung on, as always, searching desperately in the dark for that glimmer of hope.

Daryl turned his head then and kissed her roughly on the temple. The coarse hair on his chin prickled her skin and brought her unwillingly back to the corpse riddled scene before them.

"We'll leave tomorrow, like we planned. This place's no good for us."

When Beth didn't respond he added in a gentler tone, "If any of our folks made it, we'll find em'."

Beth glanced up at him then.

"You mean it?"

"Course I do."

Daryl stood up slowly and helped Beth to her feet. Her eyes settled back on the floor and she covered her chest with her arms.

"If we're gonna be on foot tomorrow, we'll need some rest" Daryl said, watching Beth closely. He didn't like the look in her eye.

Beth looked around the kitchen, avoiding his burning stare; Daryl could still see her trembling.

"What about the bodies?"

"You go on in the living room, I'll make sure none of em' will be wakin' back up, at least. Don't think I'll take the bodies outside, it's like to attract Walkers."

Beth didn't have the strength to debate this point with him and turned toward the hallway door. Before she reached it, however, she paused. Looking to her right, she saw Daryl's vest, the one Joe had taken off of her, lying on the floor next to his body. She hesitated a few moments more before stepping over to cautiously it up. Daryl watched intently from across the kitchen. He didn't know how she was holding it together. As far as days went, this one had been somewhere between horse piss and the deepest level of hell. In the very least, he had been able to stop Joe before he had done what he meant to do. Even Beth wouldn't have come back from that.

When she had left the room, Daryl made his rounds, checking all of the men. He had gotten a head shot on all but one, who he found in the corner pretending to be dead. He covered the thug's mouth quickly so Beth wouldn't hear him scream.

Beth, now wrapped in a thin blanket, had begun to wonder what was taking Daryl so long when he finally stepped into the doorway. He was holding his crossbow, her jeans, and a bag filled with guns. The darkness in his eyes had faded and he almost looked pleased with himself.

"I got somethin' for you."

Beth tried to muster a small smile. "Oh yeah?"

She couldn't imagine what he could have acquired in a kitchen full of dead bodies. It was in the midst of that thought that she recalled the necklace he had made himself some time ago. A necklace of Walker ears. Beth cringed internally and prayed he hadn't crafted something similar from the men who had tried to violate her.

Daryl leaned his head back out into the hall and whistled. Beth only had a moment to wonder when a happy mutt came bounding into the living room, his tail wagging furiously.

"Oh my gosh! Daryl! You caught him!" Despite everything that happened that day, Beth's face broke into a huge grin and she laughed out loud as the dog showered her with kisses.

"He's the one who sounded the wire." Daryl said grinning. "Fucking dog saved our asses. Figured the least we could do is give him a meal."

Beth had coaxed the wiry haired animal into her lap and was examining him more closely.

"He's missin' an eye…" she lamented, kissing the top of his head.

"Must be a tough'n." Daryl replied, approvingly.

He was relieved to see her smile. They had pulled through the experience at the lake, maybe they could pull through this too.

He retreated back to the kitchen to find something suitable for the dog to eat. When he returned to the living room he called it over to the corner.

"Hope you like Spam, buddy." Daryl gave the dog a pat as it came to inspect his offering. "I sure as hell don't," he added under his breath.

Leaving him to his meal, Daryl collapsed onto the area rug next to Beth. She had lit several candles in the room to keep the darkness at bay.

"I figured since it's our last night, it couldn't hurt." She shrugged. She was still smiling at the dog, but there was something behind her eyes, a haunted dullness that had replaced her happy, confident gleam.

Daryl said nothing. They would keep the candles lit. He would let her cope however she needed to. Beth turned her face towards him then, searching his eyes.

"You alright?" He asked. She could hear the concern in his voice.

"Yeah. I think so." She said quickly, brushing off the question. Her eyes drifted to his lips.

She began to lean in, when he stopped her.

"What are you doin'?" He asked, his brow furrowing.

"I want you to kiss me, Daryl."

He shifted uneasily. "I don't think… I mean, after tonight-"

Beth placed her fingertips lightly against his mouth, cutting him off.

"Dammit, Daryl… kiss me."


	5. Chapter 5

**= :: CHAPTER FIVE ::=**

**NOTE:**** IF YOU READ THE LAST CHAPTER BEFORE I RE-POSTED IT, YOU MAY WANT TO GO BACK A RE-READ. I REALIZED THAT I HAD WRITTEN IT TOO QUICKLY/SLOPPILY AND IT NEEDED SEVERAL CHANGES/CORRECTIONS. THAT BEING SAID, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS NEXT CHAPTER. THANKS FOR ALL OF THE GREAT REVIEWS, I LOVE EM'! **

"I really don't think we should do this right now, Beth." Daryl said breaking himself away from her lips. "It don't feel right. Not after tonight. I think we need a little time to get past what we just went through."

Beth sighed. "I don't want to think about it, Daryl. Dwellin' on it will only set the details deeper in our heads and allow it to have a real impact on our lives. I just want something beautiful to remember. I don't want the first time to be somethin' like that."

Daryl studied her for a few moments. "Joe's dead, Beth, he can't do nothin' to you anymore."

Beth shot him an incredulous look. "Oh come on, Daryl… do you really think he was the only man of his kind? Hell, he had five others with him! Those are the type of men who thrive in this kinda world. There's plenty more where he came from an' if we keep movin' who knows when we'll run into more of em'."

Daryl tore at his cuticles with his teeth and spat onto the floor. He didn't want to make her mad, but he also didn't know how he could touch Beth in the ways she wanted and not feel like another thug. The image of Joe with his hands all over Beth was still too fresh in his mind. Back before the Walkers, those were the type of men he and Merle would have associated with. They were his kind of people.

"Not now, Beth." Daryl said, his tones final. "It might not fuck with your head, but it would with mine."

Beth opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Taking a deep breath, she took a moment to examine things from Daryl's perspective. She had to admit that it was selfish to think that because she had been the center of Joe's attention, that the whole situation hadn't been just as hard on Daryl. Her eyes softened then, the defiant fire leaving as quickly as it came.

"I'm sorry, Daryl. It's… it's just been a long day."

"Damn straight. I say we both catch a little shut eye. We'll need it for tomorrow."

Beth looked over at the dog. He was curled up, nose buried in his tail, in the corner.

"Looks like he's way ahead of us."

Daryl grunted. "Prolly hasn't had a full belly in a while. It'd knock me out, too."

"Think we could take him with us when we leave?"

Daryl turned this one over for a spell.

"I reckon' we could. If he'll follow, that is."

He couldn't help but notice that Beth kept avoiding his eyes. She still had a look about her that he didn't like. It reminded him of the Beth he had met at the farm; uncertain of the world and her desire to remain in it.

"What is it?"

Beth twitched. "Nothin'." She answered too quickly. She secured the blanket around herself and began fumbling with her hair, weaving it into a loose braid.

"We've just got this one blanket, s'all. I don't mind sharing if you don't…"

Daryl leaned away, uncertain. He had no need for the blanket, it was going to be a warm night, as usual. He wondered, though, if it was more the company Beth was after. She had already spent each sleep since her father's death plagued by dark dreams. That, accompanied by today's events might leave anyone in need of a warm body to share the night with. Then again, Daryl was well aware that she was still wearing nothing but a pair of panties underneath that blanket. Perhaps she still meant to change his mind…

He had thought on it for too long.

Beth cleared her throat awkwardly. "S'alright, just thought I'd offer. You can have the blanket if you want…"

"No." Daryl replied quickly. "We can share, I reckon."

"Alright then."

Daryl awoke with a start sometime in the early morning hours. It was still dark outside and all but one of the candles had died out. He listened carefully, but all was quiet around them. It was too early yet, even for the birds, and the dog still slept soundly across the room. Even though they had fallen sleep with an appropriate distance between them, Daryl had somehow ended up on his side, pressed up against Beth's back. Her hair had come loose, spilling over his arm and smelling of salt and earth.

As far as Daryl could tell, she was still fast asleep. Propping himself up on one elbow, he slowly began to move away. His shirt was partially unbuttoned, and the exposed part of his chest was sticky from the humid Georgia night. He had to peel himself from Beth's back, and this caused her to stir.

Daryl stopped, his breath catching in his throat. Beth buried her face deeper into her arm, brow furrowing against a dream; her lips parted to allow a soft whimper. He had almost dared to breathe again when she began to shift uncomfortably and rolled her hips back against Daryl's groin. He couldn't stifle the low groan that escaped him when he finally exhaled. He closed his eyes trying to ward off any indecent thoughts, but they crept in anyway, drifting back to before Joe had interrupted everything. The subtle swell of her breasts, her soft yielding lips….

He opened his eyes . She was right here, a beautiful young woman who wanted _him_. He reached out and let his hand hover over her for some time, unsure of himself. This was something he couldn't come back from. This was Herschel's Beth. But Herschel was dead, so he tried to imagine what Rick or Maggie would say; what they might think. He had made up his mind to move back to his side of the rug when Beth stirred again, her hips moving torturously against him.

"Goddammit." Daryl growled under his breath. He was too aroused now to care what was right and what was wrong. He wanted Beth and she wanted him, and that was all that really mattered.

He slid his arm between Beth's neck and shoulder and wrapped it across her chest, pulling her close.

"Daryl?" Beth whispered, jolting from her dreams.

Daryl didn't answer, but instead ran his free hand slowly down her side, over her hip and between her legs. He squeezed the inside of her thigh and buried his face in her hair, nipping at her ear.

He heard a sharp intake of breath from Beth, but she didn't protest. She didn't dare speak. Any words or sentiments might cause Daryl to think better of his actions. She reached up then, to grip the arm he had wrapped around her. His hold was nearly crushing and he was breathing heavily in her ear. She could tell he was holding himself back and could already feel him, hard and ready, pressing into her from behind. Part of her just wanted him to take the wild, unbridled plunge that she knew he was repressing, but another part of her wanted to savor what was happening, take it slow.

Daryl dragged his hand upward until his fingers brushed over the front of her panties. Beth moaned, clutching onto his arm with both hands now. Gaining confidence from her reaction, he explored more, always seeming to miss that small spot between her legs that screamed for attention. After a few minutes of this torture, Beth realized that he was doing it on purpose. Teasing her; drawing her to the point of no return and staking his claim on her maidenhead. The ache was unbearable.

She began to writhe against him, bucking her hips. Daryl chuckled low into her ear. He had her, no turning back. He maneuvered his hand into the back of her panties, and pushed them down to her knees. Beth hurriedly kicked them the rest of the way off, along with the blanket. She had changed her mind; she didn't want slow anymore, she needed him _now_.

Daryl seemed to sense her urgency and swept her leg up over his hip, spreading her thighs wide. He fumbled with the front of his jeans for a few moments, kissing and nipping at her neck all the while. Beth trembled against him, ready to burst. He had never known a woman so desperate to receive him. Daryl had always been more of an afterthought with the ladies- a, "why not, nothin' better to do." This was largely due to the fact that Merle had always been around to put him down in front of company. And besides, as far as Daryl could recall, he had never met a genuinely "nice girl." No one like Beth, anyway.

Her desire only intensified his own. Having freed himself, Daryl reached back down between her legs. Beth groaned, grinding against him. He began to massage her again in slow circles; gently at first, then with greater intensity as he watched her eyes roll upward and her lids flutter shut. She blossomed for him beautifully, warm and wet in his hand. It took all of his willpower not to bury himself in that willing, welcoming place in that very moment, but he wanted to bring her to the very edge before he took her. He wanted her to feel so drunk with pleasure that the pain of her deflowering would hardly linger in her thoughts.

Beth could feel Daryl pressing into her and this thrilled and terrified her. She would lose her innocence here in this strange house, on this old rug, clutched tightly in the arms of a man she had never imagined opening herself to in such way. She tried to clear the static in her head for a brief moment to consider all of this properly, but the pleasure quickly pulled her back under.

Daryl could see that Beth was losing the battle. Her back arched off of his abdomen, and her ass pressed even deeper into his throbbing erection. Neither one of them could wait any longer. He released her, taking himself in hand. Beth could feel the climax coiled unbearably in her belly, crying for release. When he had aligned himself with Beth, he muttered into her ear.

"This might hurt some..."

Beth threw her head back against his chest.

"I don't care. Daryl, _please._"

He didn't need further invitation. He sunk his teeth into her shoulder to distract from the discomfort below and plunged into her. Beth cried out into the darkness. Daryl grasped onto the leg that was thrown over his hip, pushing himself deeper into her warmth. He began driving himself into her full force, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. He knew he couldn't last; it had been far too long. Riding up to the last possible moment, Daryl finally pulled himself free, spilling his seed onto the back of her thigh with a loud groan of relief. He felt immediately as if a huge weight had been lifted. Placing his forehead against Beth's shoulder for a moment, he propelled himself off his side, collapsing onto his back.

"Jesus."

Beth turned over then and wriggled up against him, laying her head on top of his chest.

"Sorry, it's been a long while since-"

Beth cut him off. "No. It was perfect."

Her thighs were sticky with blood and semen, and she could feel a soreness welling steadily between her legs, but none of those things mattered. It was beautiful. Daryl looked down at her then. It was still too dark to be certain, but he thought he could see a smile playing at her lips.

He put his arm around her, holding her close.

"Did it hurt much?" he asked.

Beth shrugged, looking up at him. "Yeah, kinda. But it's okay."

He glanced at her thighs and could easily discern the dark blood that stained her pale skin. Swiping a finger along her leg, he brought the virgin blood to his tongue, letting the metallic taste flood his mouth. She looked up at him then, watching and wondering; his thoughts indiscernible.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Beth Greene."

Before she could respond, he bit at her bottom lip and drew her in for the second round.


End file.
